So the Canada jaunt is fast approaching and I’m excited: and dead scared.
Scared that we are going to a new country with absolutely no idea where we’ll live, absolutely no idea where (and indeed, if!) we’ll get work, and absolutely no idea where our lives will lead.
This would be scary in any situation, but with the welfare of two little bundles of lard (I’m sorry, I mean, joy) at stake, it’s damn well giving Silence of the Lambs a run for its money.
The only comfort I’m taking at the moment is the knowledge that it is our choice to embark on this mad adventure, that no matter what happens at least we’ll all be together and that my dear sister-in-law Cat (who is a very well-travelled kick-butt human being) told me she has felt sheer terror and uncertainty before every single trip she’s ever taken.
All that, plus the knowledge that if it all goes horribly pear-shaped, I can write the screenplay and sell it as the next The Pursuit of Happyness. Though hopefully we won’t be curling up in a public toilet somewhere, cuddled into a ball and weeping.
That would suck.